


all i want for christmas is you

by fromiftowhen



Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, F/M, Holidays, Mistletoe, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27953471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromiftowhen/pseuds/fromiftowhen
Summary: "Christmas will always be as long as we stand heart to heart and hand in hand." - Dr. SuessOne day, you’ll end up spending Christmas with the love of your life. And every single year after that, you’ll get to do it again.A collection of seven, unrelated Upstead one-shots and drabbles from the @upsteadofficial Christmas prompt challenge.
Relationships: Jay Halstead/Hailey Upton
Comments: 20
Kudos: 165





	1. the goosebumps start to raise

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends! Happy December! Again, these are not the fics you're looking for. It's coming, I swear. 
> 
> These have been posted on Tumblr, but I thought I'd put them here as well. Each chapter is a different one-shot or drabble inspired by a particular prompt. These are all complete and one will post a day for the next week.
> 
> I'm fromiftowhen on Tumblr (AND on Twitter, now). Let's be friends!

##### For the first day of the Upstead Christmas prompt challenge -- SNOW.  
Title from Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood

For the first time in a long time, Jay wakes up on his own -- before his alarm, without his phone ringing, without Hailey's lips pressing against his skin, drawing him eagerly from sleep. 

He's cold, even though her body is pressed against his chest, and it takes him a moment to realize why. 

The curtains are pulled back just slightly, and he can see snow falling outside the window, heavy enough he knows it'll still coat the ground when they finally have to get up. 

Hailey moves against his chest, her back stretching against him, her bare legs tangling with his under the covers. 

“Cold,” she mumbles, her voice sleepy. 

“Yeah, so are your feet, good lord,” he teases, but he pulls her closer against his chest and lets her tuck her feet under him. 

“Were you already awake?” She's slightly less mumbly as she pulls his arm tighter around her chest. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, brushing his lips over the shell of her ear. “It's snowing.”

“Mmm,” she murmurs. “You hate snow.”

He laughs softly and presses his hand up under the hem of her shirt. She gasps as his fingers settle on her hip, still cold even with the body heat. 

“I don't hate snow,” he tells her. 

“Oh? So it's not you I've heard complain for the last few years about how people are idiots on the roads and the streets turn the snow dingy too quick, and--”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, pressing his hand higher up her waist, grinning when she shivers. “That's months into winter, no one likes that. But the first snow is good.”

“Yeah?” She burrows back against him, shifting so she can see the snow fall too. 

“Mhmm.”

“Happy childhood memories in the snow?” Her voice is quiet. It's the first snow they've woken up to together, and it feels like they're both trying to keep the quiet, sleepy feeling as long as possible. 

He breathes out a sigh, maybe a laugh, against her skin. “God, no.”

“What?” She laughs, her fingers drifting over his on her waist. “You and Will didn't bundle up and get in snowball fights for hours? Cute little Halstead brothers?”

He laughs. “Sure, but that was to torture each other, not to play. Ask him about the time he tried to bury me alive the week before Christmas so he could keep my gifts.”

She laughs, her shoulders shaking against his chest. “I'm sure you all remember that story exactly the same. No good childhood memories in the snow?”

“I dunno, some, I guess. But those aren't why the first snow is so good.”

“It's me, isn't it? You hated the snow until five minutes ago, and now it's your favorite because I'm here.” Her tone is playful, teasing, but he brushes his lips against her neck slowly, grinning as she arches to give him a better angle.

It might be the first snow they've seen from bed together, but he's already well-versed in all the ways he can quiet her down and rile her up with just his lips. 

He bites at her neck lightly, chuckling into her skin as she sighs. 

“Cute,” he whispers, pulling back. “But no,”

“Rude,” she grumbles, but it's half-hearted. “So what’s so good about the first snowfall?” 

Her fingers tangle with his on her waist, and he runs his thumb over her skin, warming her cold hands. 

“When I came back from my last tour,” he starts, quietly, and her fingers grip his tighter, a reflex that makes him smile. “It was summer, and hot, and I was so messed up, I didn't know what way was up for months. There wasn't sand under my feet anymore, but… everything else felt the same.”

He doesn't have to say more, she knows enough about how he spent those first few months. They don't need to relive it. 

“But the snow came early and fast that year and I woke up one morning and everything was just covered in snow, and it was so different from how I'd spent the last few years...” He trails off, and her voice fades in. 

“It was like a reset,” she fills in, and he nods. 

“Yeah, kinda. I mean, it didn't fix everything. But it finally made me feel like I'd come home. Which helped.” 

“So familiar you didn't even realize you needed it,” she says quietly. 

“Yeah,” he whispers. 

“I get that,” she says, shifting and rolling over to face him. She smiles. “I like the first snow too.”

His arm wraps around her waist, pulling her against him. “It's me, isn't it? I made you like the snow,” he mimics, teasing, and she rolls her eyes. 

“You can keep thinking that,” she says, but she's still smiling. “You're just here to keep me warm.”

“Oh? I mean, I can leave. You can put on pants, you know. Normally, people wear them when it snows.”

“It wasn't snowing last night, and you weren't protesting when I was taking them off,” she says, her cold feet sliding under his again. 

He smirks. “Yeah, well. No pants are the best pants. But it was still 20°, Hailey.”

“I told you, that's why you're here. But wanna know why I really like the snow?”

Her voice is low, teasing enough he's prepared when she tosses a leg over him and straddles him, grinning down at him. 

“I might have an idea.”

She leans in, her hair falling in his face, building a quiet little cocoon around them in the dark room. “Sometimes, you get snowed in, and you have to stay in bed all day.” 

“Yeah, your answer is much better. Can I change my answer to that?”

She laughs as her lips find his.

Her feet are still cold, and they probably won't end up snowed in. But he kisses her back and pulls the covers up over their heads, keeping the room quiet and warming them up. 

He's pretty sure she's given him a new reason to love the first snowfall.


	2. sweet like candy to my soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the second day of the @upsteadofficial Christmas prompt challenge – HOT COCOA. 
> 
> Set before Hailey is a member of Intelligence. 
> 
> Title from Crash Into Me by DMB.

It's an accident, he swears, but it feels like fate. 

The barista calls his name early on Monday morning while he's distracted on his phone. He makes his way to the pickup counter and grabs the first grande cup he sees, taking a quick sip while opening a text from Voight. 

It's warm but too sweet, and it's definitely not coffee. 

“I'm sorry, is _your name_ Hailey?” 

It's definitely not his cup. 

The blonde standing in front of him raises her eyebrows as he pulls the cup from his lips. 

“It's not,” he says, wiping his lip with the back of his hand quickly. “I'm gonna guess _yours_ is, though.”

“Good work, detective,” she says, sarcasm dripping in her tone. 

He laughs quickly. “Actually, funny story--” he starts, but she just reaches for the cup he now clearly sees has his name on it. 

“Guess I'm _Jay,”_ she reads. “This better not be some kind of chai latte,” she tells him, grabbing the cup and turning on her heel before he can say another word. 

He blinks a couple of times, trying to process. 

Hot cocoa has never been his favorite, but he finishes the cup on his way into the district, and he kind of already wants more. 

——————————

He's just poured a mug of what he _intended_ to have this morning, black coffee, one cream when voices in the bullpen draw him out of the break room. 

Voight and the team are standing with a few other people he doesn't recognize as he walks into the room. A short blonde is facing away from him and something about the ponytail prickles as familiar, but he shakes it off as Voight turns to him. 

“Halstead, our case from this morning hit on an open investigation in Robbery/Homicide. Wanna get Upton and her guys up to speed on what we know?”

He nods, taking a sip of the coffee as the blonde turns toward him. 

He manages not to spit it out, but it's close. 

_Hailey_ is standing in front of him, looking not nearly as surprised to see him as he is to see her. 

“You steal _that cup_ from someone too?” She asks, nodding down to the mug in his hand. 

He just stares, shaking out of it as she waits. “What? No. That's… that's not a regular thing I do.”

“Okay.” She looks like she doesn't quite believe it. “Guess I was right about one thing, though.”

He must look as confused as he feels because she just nods toward his star. “You _are_ a detective.”

He nods. “Yeah. Halstead, Intelligence,” he says, and then contemplates just choking on his coffee entirely and ending it all, because she's smirking and looking at him like he might be the biggest idiot alive. 

_“Clearly,”_ she says, stepping past him toward the whiteboard. Her hand on his arm as she passes feels like a jolt bigger than any amount of caffeine could ever give him. “Wanna get me up to speed, _detective?”_

The smirk is kind of sexy, and the sass is kind of infuriating. It's such a contrast to the sweet, sugary drink he'd stolen this morning, and he definitely wants more. 

——————————

Except the case wraps up quickly, and Hailey breezes out of his orbit as quickly as she'd entered it, leaving him still wanting more. They get busy again, and even though he somehow manages to think about her smirk every time he pours a cup of coffee over the next couple of days, that's all he does. 

_(Okay,_ so he thinks about tracking her down at her district, bringing her a drink, hopefully not being quite such an idiot. But he’s pretty sure she'd say that bordered on stalking, so he doesn't actually do it.)

_(Okay, fine._ So they get called onto a robbery scene later in the week, and he pushes down the annoyance he feels when he realizes it's only a robbery, and won't require Robbery/Homicide. Being annoyed someone isn't dead definitely doesn't feel like something he needs to share.) 

_(Okay, sure,_ he stops at a different coffee shop when he's running late on Thursday morning, and a blonde in front of him makes his pulse race a little. But she turns, holding an iced tea, and she smiles, but she doesn't smirk, and he tells himself to calm the hell down.) 

——————————

He wakes up late that next Monday and thinks about not stopping at his usual coffee place, but he needs it, and the quick flash of a smirk and blonde hair hadn't stopped running through his mind all weekend, as dumb as it made him feel… so. 

He stops, but Will calls as he's stepping into the shop, so he's distracted enough he doesn't look up until he hears a name. 

And there are a million Hailey's in the world, he's sure. But it’s _his_ name called right after as the barista sets down another cup that makes him shush Will and end the call. 

By the time he edges out of line and reaches the pickup counter, Hailey is holding two cups. 

“Figured I'd save you the trouble of having to steal mine this time,” she says, holding a cup out to him. 

He takes a sip, not taking his eyes off her. It's exactly what he'd have ordered, and he nods. 

“Thanks,” he says. “But I'm pretty sure I should've paid for your drink.”

She shrugs. “I saw you walk in. You know, for an honest to god detective, you're not super observant when you're on the phone.”

He starts to respond, but the words don't quite make it out before she just smirks slowly. 

“Don't worry about not buying the coffee,” she says, gesturing to his cup. “You can buy me dinner to make up for it.”

Before he can get another word out, she's out the door again, and he just stares as she crosses the parking lot. He shifts the cup to his other hand to pull out his keys and something catches his eye. 

He laughs. 

Her number is scrawled in black sharpie on the side of the cup. 

He tells himself to wait until he's back in his truck before dialing her number, but he can’t stop himself. 

He's listening to her immediate, unsurprised laughter as she answers a few moments later, and he already needs more. 

——————————

(The first time he kisses her, sure and slow on her doorstep in the cold, she tastes sweet, and warm, exactly like that first sip of hot cocoa, even though he knows she didn't have any with dinner.

And he knows he'll never get enough. He'll always want more.)


	3. sacred new beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the third day of the @upsteadofficial Christmas prompt challenge – CHRISTMAS MUSIC.
> 
> Title from Cornelia Street by Taylor Swift

Early on in their partnership, they decided on a few rules. 

Most were pretty easy to agree upon and were set in stone.

_If you need coffee, your partner needs coffee._  
_If you have food, you offer to share food._  
_If shit goes wrong, you have each other’s back, no matter what._  


Some, though, only became rules when it became clear they were absolutely necessary. 

_He drives. (She has road rage issues she’ll never admit to.)_  
_She proofreads the paperwork. (He refuses to remember to use spell check.)_  
_No music in the truck. (They can never agree, and it makes it hard to hear the city-wide.)_  


And for the most part, these rules stick even as their partnership bends through hard times and finally shifts and evolves into a relationship too. 

Coffee and food and trust? Those are unspoken and never change. 

Some, though, evolve with them.

He still drives, but now his free hand rests on her thigh if they’re alone (and sometimes when they’re not, to Kim’s absolute disdain.)

She still proofreads the paperwork, but he stays while she finishes and just smiles when she tells him for the nine millionth time that effect and affect are _not_ interchangeable. 

No music in the truck, though, that one sticks. They can’t agree on a station or a volume, and it’s pretty annoying to have to turn it down when the city-wide squawks. 

Every Christmas, though, she tries to skirt around that rule, _insisting_ that Christmas music shouldn’t count, that they should be able to agree on at least that for a couple of weeks a year.

Except, she's pretty sure he hates Christmas music, so it never fails that they argue about it. 

It’s no different this year, except that when she reaches over and turns up the volume one snowy Friday in December, settling on an all-Christmas, all-the-time station, he lets her, and she shoots him a surprised look. 

“I'm sorry, have you suddenly gone deaf? Can you even hear me right now?” She asks, her voice teasing, and he just grins over at her, holding his free hand up to his ear. 

“This station is fine,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow. 

“Something is wrong with you.”

He shrugs. “Probably,” he laughs. “But you still want me.” 

She shakes her head. “I tolerate you,” she mumbles, but she lets the conversation drop out as Otis Redding’s voice fades in. 

——————————

The day goes on and there's Christmas music playing in the restaurant they sit down in for lunch, but he just smiles when she hums along. 

She side-eyes him each time, but he lets her turn the music back on every time they get in the truck, without complaint. 

She goes with it, because she's not going to fight over something she's already won, but it's _weird,_ and the feeling lingers after they get home. 

He goes upstairs to shower and she moves around the kitchen, getting out stuff for a quick dinner. 

She turns on a Christmas Classics playlist on Spotify, and by the time his footsteps fall on the stairs, she's halfway through dinner prep, Bing Crosby's voice filling the room. 

His hands find her waist and she reaches over to turn off the music, but he presses his hand against her hip, keeping her in place. 

“You can leave it on,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek as he moves to get plates and glasses out of the cabinets. 

“Okay,” she says, because, _again,_ she’s not gonna fight it. 

They eat dinner, chatting like they normally do. She thought it would be too much -- living together, working together so closely every day -- but in the few months since he moved in, it’s been _good_ and so much easier than she ever imagined it could be, and she’s pretty sure he feels the same way. 

He stands to start cleaning up like he does every time they eat at home, and she finishes her food slowly, watching him move around the kitchen. She’s just about to bring her plate to the sink when she watches him reach over to turn the volume up on her Spotify playlist. 

Frank Sinatra’s voice fills the room a little louder, and she stops in her tracks. 

“Okay, _what_ is going on?” She asks, and he turns from the sink, sleeves rolled up, towel over his shoulder, and raises an eyebrow at her. 

It’s sexy, dammit, and she has to remind herself she’s interrogating him, not _flirting_ with him currently. 

“Can’t I turn up the music?” He asks slowly, taking the plate from her as she comes closer. 

“I mean. _Yeah,_ but. You don’t like Christmas music.” 

“I don’t?” His voice is casual, quiet, as he rinses her plate. 

She pauses. “I… assume you don’t.” 

He shrugs. “I mean, I don’t wanna listen to it year-round. But some of it’s okay. And _you_ like it, so.”

She bites her lip and smiles when he glances over, handing her the plate to dry. She pulls the towel off his shoulder and dries the plate, and they’re quiet for a minute or so until a new song fades in quietly. She doesn’t recognize it, but he quirks a small smile.

“My mom used to drive me and Will crazy singing this song every Christmas. Just, nonstop,” he says, his voice low, and she nods, watching him out of the corner of her eye. They haven’t talked about it much, but she knows it’s a bittersweet time of year for him, especially with his dad gone now. She won’t run to spend the holidays with her parents, but she at least knows she has the option. 

“That’s a good memory,” she whispers. 

“Yeah,” he says. She sets the last dish on the drying rack and turns to start wiping down the counter, but his hand on her waist stops her. 

She glances up at him, about to say something, but he just moves into her space, lacing their fingers together and pulling her in close, and it takes her a moment to realize they’re _dancing,_ his hand on her waist swaying them slightly. 

“It was annoying, the singing,” he says quietly, “but now I know she did it when she was happy. Will and I… we never knew where _we_ stood with my dad really. He was… well, you know. But he was never like that with my mom.” His voice trails off for a moment, and she runs her fingers up to his shoulder. 

His hand tightens around her waist, and she presses her lips to the base of this throat slowly. 

“They’d dance like this in the kitchen, after dinner,” he continues, and she smiles against his skin. “It was gross, to me and Will. But I guess I kinda get it now,” he says, and she laughs, letting her breath ghost against his neck. 

“He was who he was, to us. But he was completely gone for her, thought she hung the moon.” 

“That’s sweet,” she whispers. She doesn’t know what that’s like, seeing your parents in love and happy, dancing in the kitchen just because. 

But Jay’s hand runs up and down her back slowly, his fingers leaving goosebumps through the cotton of her shirt, and she thinks maybe she’s learning it firsthand for herself now, in a way she never has before. 

He nods, and she waits for him to say more, but he doesn’t. They sway in the kitchen through another song, and she pulls back slightly as a new one starts to play.

“You know you’ve backed yourself into a corner now, right? I’m going to insist on Christmas music _all the time_ now, and dancing will have to be a regular thing.” 

He laughs, leaning in to kiss her slowly for a long moment. “No to the music, yes to the dancing,” he whispers, and she rolls her eyes, but leans back up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. 

She closes her eyes and lets him kiss her, music swelling in the background, and mentally adds _dancing in the kitchen_ to their list of rules. 

(She’s pretty sure she’ll win on the Christmas music too.)


	4. sure did treat me nice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the fourth day of the @upsteadofficial Christmas prompt challenge -- CHRISTMAS COOKIES. 
> 
> Title from Merry Christmas Baby by Otis Redding

“Hey, Hailey, do we have any baking powder?”

She glances up from the ribbon she’s tying around a sparky, red-wrapped gift and raises an eyebrow. 

“In the pantry, with the baking stuff. Why?”

“Just wondering,” Jay calls, and she hears the telltale sign of the squeaky pantry door opening. 

She goes back to the gift, tying and curling the ribbon and sticking on a gift tag. She’s hunting for the ever-illusive pen when his voice reaches her again. 

“Babe, what’s _icing sugar,_ and do we have any?” His question accompanies a loud noise and a quiet curse, and that’s what finally gets her out of her chair and headed toward the kitchen. 

What greets her is… well. A disaster area unlike any she’s ever seen. Her normally neat, put-together husband is dusted in flour, and there’s what she can only assume is sugar coating half the island. 

The island that was totally empty and clean an hour ago, _finally,_ for the first time in what felt like months, now appears to be home to every mixing bowl and baking ingredient that lives in their kitchen. 

“What in the--” she starts, automatically lowering her voice as he raises his eyebrows at her. 

“I know,” he says quietly. “I’ll clean it all up when I’m done.” He’s whisking… _something_ in a bowl, so intent that he doesn’t notice the horror she’s sure must be on her face. 

“When you’re done with _what?”_ She asks, picking up a soppy paper towel soaked in what feels like egg white. 

“Baking.”

“I… _okay,”_ she mutters. She’s a pretty damn good detective, but even she fails to see how the mess he’s created and the gloop he’s now staring at in the bowl equate to actually baking anything. “Jay.”

He finally glances up at her, and okay, there’s a sheepish look on his face. He’s aware he’s a mess. 

She tries not to laugh. _“What_ are you baking, specifically?”

He nods to the bowl, and she peeks in, not finding any clues. “Cookies,” he says, but he sounds a little unsure now. 

She nods. “Right. Just… had a random urge to bake for the holidays?”

He shrugs. “Y’know. Cookies for Santa, or whatever.” 

She bites her lip. It’s cute, it’s silly. 

It’s _sweet._

She glances around at the mess, at the stains dotting his blue henley, at the empty baking sheet on the stove. 

“Have you actually managed to _bake_ any yet?” 

He looks rightfully embarrassed but rolls his eyes. “I couldn’t decide on a recipe, and then they all have such _pointless stories_ before they show you the actual recipe… and then all the ingredients…”

“So, that’s a no.” 

He nods. “And I might have been a little afraid of setting off the smoke alarm.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to decide between kissing him and laughing at him. She settles for something in between, and takes the mixing bowl out of his hands, setting it among the mess on the counter. She brushes some flour off his shirt and reaches up to kiss him quickly. 

“I think I know where this urge came from, and it’s maybe the sweetest I’ve ever found you. But, here,” she says, plucking at the material of his shirt. “I like this shirt, and you’re gonna ruin it. Go upstairs, put on a junky shirt, and I’ll… I was gonna say I’ll help you. But we’ll just start over.”

“Okay,” he whispers, his hand brushing her hip. “Be right back.”

He leaves, and she nods, turning to survey the mess. It’s _maybe_ not quite as horrible as she initially thought, and she sets to work gathering the bowls that absolutely won’t be usable again without a run through the dishwasher, stacking them in the sink for now, and pulling aside the bowls they can use now, and clearing space on the counter. 

She’s just flipping through an old recipe box handed down from her mom when she hears him walking back down the stairs. 

And by the sound of his quiet, upbeat voice, he’s not alone. 

She hears a sweet giggle as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, and her heart does this weird, new, flippy thing before she even sees him round the corner.

 _“Please_ tell me you didn’t wake her up,” she says quietly, reaching out to tickle the little footie-pajama-clad feet of their six-month-old girl. 

Lily giggles, and Hailey’s heart tugs again, threatening to just completely burst. 

Jay smiles. “I’m not dumb, babe,” he laughs. “I just peeked in, and she was wide awake. She wanted to know what was going on down here, huh, Lil? What’s mom doing?”

 _“Mom’s_ cleaning up after _dad’s_ mess,” she says, winking. “But it’s okay, we know dad was just trying to bake cookies so you could leave some for Santa, right?”

“It’s her first Christmas, babe, we’ve gotta start her off right,” he says, smoothing down Lily’s bedhead. 

“She’s six months old, Jay. She’s not gonna remember.”

“Yeah, but. You know,” he says, and yeah, she does. She knows what he was thinking. Lily won’t remember, but _they_ will, and that means a lot. 

“I know,” she smiles, reaching up to run a gentle hand down Lily’s back and press her lips against Jay’s cheek. 

“Come on,” she says. “Put the rugrat back to bed and come help me. I found a recipe I used to make with my mom.”

He nods, and she takes a moment to take them both in. _“You_ can help me bake in a couple of years,” she smiles, pressing her lips to the soft, downy smell of the top of Lily’s head. 

——————————

By the time Lily’s back to sleep and Hailey’s pulling the last tray of cookies out of the oven, Jay’s honestly pretty exhausted. He’s been exhausted for six months, but he watches Hailey set the tray down on a trivet and turn to start moving an earlier batch from the cooling rack to a tin, and he knows his exhaustion has nothing on hers. 

It’s a _good_ exhaustion, though, and now when her insomnia kicks in, he finds her in the nursery rocking Lily, or sometimes, on the lucky nights, just watching her quietly sleep in her crib. 

He moves around her easily, running the water quietly and starting to load the dishwasher as she finishes up with the cookies. They look good, and they smell better, and there’s no way in hell he could have done it without her. 

(He’s fully aware he couldn’t have done _any of this_ without her, but being grateful for everything she’s given him feels like a little too much emotion for now, so he’ll settle for just being grateful for the cookies.) 

By the time he’s done loading the dishwasher and cleaning the mess off the counters, she’s at the dining table, just finishing up wrapping what might actually be the last gift.

She stands and stretches, and he watches her from the kitchen doorway quietly. The lights from the Christmas tree shine against her hair as she leans over to put the gift under the tree, and she smiles up at him as she heads for the couch.

It’s been a minefield of baby paraphernalia in the living room for months, but the addition of wrapping paper and gifts and Christmas decor in the last week is still a little overwhelming as he edges his way through the room toward her.

He sets a plate of cookies down next to her on the end table and hands her a beer, taking a swig of his own as he sits and pulls her legs over his lap. 

“Cookies and _beer_ for Santa?” She teases, but she takes a swig all the same. 

“Yeah, well. Santa’s had a long night. He deserves it, probably.” 

“Probably true,” she whispers, reaching her arm behind her to set hers on the end table. “Who’s gonna eat the cookies, though?”

“I can probably manage those,” he says, patting his stomach. 

She rolls her eyes but grins. “Don’t come crying to me when you have a stomachache,” she laughs. 

“Yes, _mommy,”_ he says, grinning as she reaches up to smack his arm. 

_“No,_ absolutely not,” she whispers, but she’s laughing still. 

“What?” He asks, giving her his best innocent expression. “You can call me _daddy,”_ he teases.

“Oh, _absolutely not,”_ she laughs. “You just keep wishing for that, babe.” 

He raises an eyebrow at her and grins around the lip of his beer.

“Want a Christmas Eve gift?” He whispers, his voice low in the dark of the room, his hand trailing up and down her thigh slowly. 

“I love you, but if you tell me the gift is sex,” she trails off, punctuating the sentence with a long yawn. 

He smiles. “What, you don’t wanna go give Lil a little brother or sister?” 

She groans quietly, but she’s smiling. “Let’s see how Christmas day goes tomorrow, and then we’ll revisit that.” 

“Mmm, I’m gonna remember that,” he whispers, setting his beer on the coffee table and leaning over her body. “I had a better idea, though.” 

He wraps his arms around her and pulls her against his side on the couch so they’re both facing the lights of the tree, the rest of the room dark around them. 

“Sleep while the kid sleeps,” he whispers, running his hand down her side as she tucks her head against his chest. 

She sighs against him, her legs tangling with his and her breathing evening out quickly. 

“Jay?” She whispers, her voice groggy.

“Hmm?” He runs a hand through her hair, closing his eyes slowly.

“Next year? Just buy Santa some cookies.” 

He chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of her head and reaches over to turn up the volume on the baby monitor. 

The cookies are still sitting there untouched, but they can wait. 


	5. my offering is true

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the fifth day of the @upsteadofficial Christmas prompt challenge -- HOLIDAY TRADITIONS.
> 
> This one does mention in vague terms the COVID-19 pandemic and how the holiday season may look different this year.
> 
> Title from Offering by The Avett Brothers.

“So what's the plan for next week?”

She pauses, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Um. Work? I don't know?”

He shakes his head. “I mean for _Christmas,_ Hailey. I know it'll look different this year, but what do you normally do?”

She shrugs and sets down her fork. “Pre-pandemic? I dunno. Work, usually? Some years I’d get Chinese food on Christmas Eve, hang out with friends who weren't spending the year with their family.”

“Okay,” he says. “Chinese food is good.” 

“We don't have to-- we can do something else.” 

It's their first Christmas together, and he knows it's a weird year to start spending holidays together. Huge parties are a no-go, and besides their coworkers, they haven't spent much time outside the house as a couple. 

(Being cooped up inside the majority of the time has its benefits, and he's not ever gonna complain about it, but.) 

But he'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about Christmas with Hailey, waking up in the morning with her, snow covering the windows, exchanging gifts over Christmas breakfast in bed. 

“I _love_ Chinese food,” he tells her, grinning. “I've just gotta FaceTime Will after we eat, and I'll be good.”

“Now?” She asks, and he laughs. 

“No, on Christmas Eve. It's a thing. No matter where we both were or how much we might have not liked each other all the time, we've always found a way to talk. It's a tradition, or whatever.”

She glances down at her plate for a moment, and when she looks back up, he catches just a hint of sadness she couldn’t quite cover in time. “That’s nice,” is all she says, but the look sticks with him. 

——————————

He doesn’t bring it up again until later in the week, when her legs are still tangled with his and their breathing is coming back to normal, early in the morning. 

He runs a hand up and down her arm gently. “You really don’t go home for Christmas?”

“I _am_ home,” she says quietly. 

“No, I know.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “I mean, you don’t go see your parents, your brothers?”

Her hair tickles his chest as she shakes her head. “No. By the time I was old enough to realize Santa was just my mom, up late at night alone, wrapping gifts after my dad passed out, I had a hard time getting in the family spirit. And my brothers have their own things going on now,” she says. “Normally I’d see them later in the week. I guess I’ll just call them this year.”

He nods. 

“What about you?”

He laughs softly. The holidays were never the same after his mom passed away, after he and Will got busy with their own lives. “Will and I would go see my dad every year we could, he’d give us a six-pack of beer to split, we’d eat some steak, call it a day. We didn’t do gifts after my mom.”

Her arm wraps around his chest and her lips press against his skin, but she doesn’t say anything. 

——————————

“Do you have any good memories from when you were little, things you did on Christmas that you loved?”

They’re in his truck, surveilling a suspect a couple of days before Christmas Eve. The sun is setting, and when she glances over at him, there’s a halo of light framing her face. 

“What’s with you and Christmas this year? We’ve _never_ talked about it this much.”

He shrugs. 

She side-eyes him for a moment but relents. “On Christmas Eve, my mom would bake cookies. You know, like for Santa. She and my dad would drink eggnog and we’d all eat cookies and read ‘ _Twas The Night Before Christmas_ in front of the fire. I think I fell asleep in front of the fire most years. I guess that’s the best memory.” 

“That’s nice,” he whispers. 

She nods, smiling. “It was. What about you?”

He thinks back to being little, trying to quietly creep down the stairs after his mom had put him and Will to bed, anticipation aching in his chest for the next morning. 

“Will and I used to try to see who could stay up the latest and wait for Santa,” he laughs. “Will always swore he heard sleigh bells or whatever, and we could never agree on who fell asleep first, but it was totally _always_ him.” 

“Little Halstead brothers competing against each other, I’m _shocked,”_ she says, her smile bright.

He leans over and presses a kiss to her cheek quickly, something they don’t usually let themselves do in public while working. 

“What was that for?” She asks, but her fingers drag over his knee slowly, and she smiles.

“Just ‘cause,” he says. “I’m just excited for Christmas for the first time in a long time.”

Her smile this time is slow, and it really feels like he earned it. “Yeah, me too.” 

——————————

She wasn’t lying. She’s excited for Christmas in a way she hasn’t been since maybe those nights around the fire with her family as a young kid, and Jay is the biggest part of that. She wants to eat Chinese food in front of a cheesy Christmas movie with him and fall asleep only after they’re both exhausted. 

Except, of course, because it’s 2020, things don’t go as planned at all. 

The suspect they were surveilling ends up being a bigger piece of the puzzle than anyone thought, and by the time Christmas Eve rolls around, their investigation has turned into a Title 3 wire that has to start immediately.

Kevin and Adam spend the morning getting everything in place, setting surveillance, and she, Jay, and Kim get everything in place in the tech room. 

By late afternoon, Voight tells them he’ll need two of them to stay overnight and cover the wire, he doesn’t care which two, but _it’s Christmas, don’t fight._

When Voight leaves, she looks over at Jay and nods toward the break room. When he meets her in front of the sink, she sighs. 

“I know,” is all he says. 

“It’s just… Kevin’s sister quarantined for two weeks so she could come to spend Christmas with him, and Kim is going to her sister’s, and Adam dresses up as Santa for his nephew every year,” she says. 

His fingers find hers at the edge of the counter. “Hailey, it’s fine. I just wanted to spend Christmas with you. If it’s gotta be like this, we’ll make do.” 

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah, come on.”

Kim hugs her, quick and tight when they tell them all to leave, and Jay grins before calling goodbye to _“Santa”_ as Adam gathers his stuff. 

“Dude, _Hailey,”_ Adam groans. “Just because you saw the Santa suit in my closet _one time_ doesn’t mean you can tell everyone that story.”

 _“Bro,_ you _own_ the suit? That’s _so_ much better, thanks for that detail,” Jay calls, and laughter follows Adam, Kim, and Kevin down the stairs. 

Voight leaves a while later, with a promise to be back in the morning to check-in. By the time they’re settling into the tech room, it’s almost 7, and her stomach is rumbling. 

“Hey,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “I know this isn’t the Christmas we planned on, but can we still get Chinese? My treat. I’m hungry.” 

“Read my mind,” he says, handing over his phone for her to order, the website of their favorite place already open. 

——————————

By the time the food gets there and they eat, they’re a couple of hours into the wire. His phone beeps as they’re cleaning up their food, and he glances down to see a text from Will. 

“Hey, are you good here for a few minutes? Will’s got a couple of free minutes now.” 

She nods, and he leans over to press a kiss to her temple. “Back soon.” 

“Tell Best Halstead hi,” she calls over her shoulder to him, grinning. 

He settles down onto the couch in the breakroom and dials Will’s number, his brother’s stupid red hair the first thing he sees in the low light of the doctor’s lounge. 

“Hey,” Will says. “Where is your _significantly better_ better-half?”

He rolls his eyes. “If you couldn’t tell by the breakroom, we’re still at work. We caught a pretty big case, so she and I are working the night shift. She says hey.” 

“Dude, that sucks.”

He shrugs. “At least we’re together,” he says. “Plans changed, but… 2020, right?”

Will nods. “What _were_ your plans?”

He glares at the screen, raising an eyebrow. “Bro.”

Will laughs. “Ugh, nevermind.”

Jay shrugs. “Hey, you asked. But we had some Chinese food, and we’ll just postpone the other plans.” 

“That beats my granola bar and Red Eye.” 

“Glad to see some things never change, even this year. Hey, I should get back. You okay over there?”

He watches Will’s face crease with stress. “No, but. You know. We’re all trying.”

“I know, man. I’m sorry. Merry Christmas, almost.” 

“Merry Christmas, bro. Tell Hailey your face is no match for hers. Thanks for keeping the tradition alive this year.”

“Same.” He waves and reaches out to end the call, grateful for a tiny piece of normalcy, a little tradition in a weird, scary year, and on a holiday that isn’t going how he planned. He glances around the room, to the sink where he’d told Hailey he just wanted to spend Christmas with her, where he’d almost told her _everything_ a couple of years prior. He thinks about her face in the truck the other day, her smile as she’d told him about her favorite childhood Christmas tradition. 

His eyes fall on a box in the corner of the room, supplies from when the city went through a run of rolling blackouts in the heat of summer. He knows there are candles in there still, and his mind sets to work.

——————————

“How’s Will?” She asks, stretching her arms up over her head as he comes back in the room a while later. 

“He’s going through it still, but he’s good. _Apparently,_ he thinks you’re prettier than I am,” he tells her, and she laughs. 

“Told you he was the best Halstead.” 

“I’ll admit he’s not wrong about that, but I dunno about _best_ Halstead,” he says, coming to stand behind her. His fingers dig into tense muscle in her shoulders, and she sighs, taking her hand off the mouse and relaxing under his touch. His left thumb digs into a knot at the base of her neck, and she closes her eyes.

“Did I miss anything?” He asks quietly. 

“No,” she whispers. “This guy is boring. Maybe it’s the holiday, I don’t know. But it’s gonna be a long night, I think.” 

His breath on her neck makes her open her eyes. His lips press just below her ear, and more tension eases out of her from beneath his fingers. 

“Wanna go knockout for a couple of hours? Relax?”

She shakes her head. “No, you go first. I’m still wired. I just need to stretch a little. You know I wouldn’t sleep anyway.” 

“Okay,” he says. “Come get me if you want me.” 

She grins, and he rolls his eyes. “Fine. Come get me if you _need_ me.” 

She winks, and he presses his lips to her neck slowly for a moment before backing away and heading out the door. 

She stands and stretches slowly, breathing in and counting out breaths slowly as her muscles start to relax. She settles back in front of the computer and loses herself in watching the wire, copying video files, and organizing files. She’s not sure how much time has passed before Jay peeks his head back in the room, but she knows it hasn't been any more than an hour at most.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“Nah,” he says. “Hey, come take a quick break with me.” 

She glances at the screens in front of her, at the clock above her. 

“C’mon,” he says, gesturing out the door. “You said yourself he’s boring. Set all the videos to autosave. Just 15 minutes. We’ll go back through it later.”

She considers for a moment and nods, clicking a few buttons and following him out the door. 

——————————

“You were supposed to be sleeping,” she says, walking into the breakroom and turning quickly to face him. 

He shrugs. “Figured maybe we’d try to have some new kind of Christmas tradition tonight.” 

“Jay…” He waits for her to say more, but she trails off, and he nudges her hip toward the couch.

The candles had been easy to pull out of the box and set up on the table, and he’d stolen matches from the box, lighting them before he’d left the room. 

The cookies had proven more difficult, but he figures Oreos from the vending machine in the lobby are better than none. 

They obviously didn’t have a copy of _‘Twas The Night Before Christmas_ hanging around, but he’d Googled and printed off the poem, and that would have to do. 

She just watches him as she sits, and he lifts the corner of his mouth in a smile. “I know holiday traditions can be hard as you get older, and some have to change, but some are worth bringing back.” 

She just nods as he comes to sit next to her, and he watches her take in the flicker of the flames from the candles. 

“It’s not a fireplace, and if anyone ever asks, I definitely did _not_ burn the emergency preparedness candles. And there’s no eggnog, but Kim _does_ have a half-empty bottle of eggnog flavored coffee creamer in the fridge if you’re feeling brave.” He hands her the Oreos, and she laughs. “They’re not homemade, but they’re better than I could make. And, here,” he says, pulling the poem out of his back pocket and handing it to her. 

She bites her lip as she unfolds it, reading the first few lines aloud. 

_“‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house,_  
_Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;_  
_The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,_  
_In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;”_  


“I love you for doing this,” she says quietly, her lips finding his in the dark of the room. 

He presses his thumb against her jaw and kisses her back slowly. 

She pulls back and smiles, leaning into him. “Thank you.” 

“We need our own traditions,” he says. “Hopefully, they won’t always include Christmas in this breakroom, but I think I’d be okay if they did.” 

She nods. “Me too.” 

He wants to spend the rest of the night like this, but he knows they have to get back to work eventually.

“Come on,” he says, pulling her against his chest. “Finish the poem.” 

The candlelight bounces off the page as her quiet voice fills the room again and his lips find her neck. 

(Her voice is fading in and out as she reaches the final lines, and he presses his lips to her temple as he eases her down onto the couch, blowing out the candles and pulling the door shut quietly behind him.

She’ll wake up soon, and come find her spot next to him, working beside him easily, and that’ll always be his favorite tradition of theirs.)


	6. all i want for christmas is you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the sixth day of the @upsteadofficial Christmas prompt challenge -- PRESENTS.
> 
> These are two drabbles (100-word complete stories.)
> 
> Title from All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey

“Hailey, we said we weren’t exchanging gifts,” he says, eyeing her closely. 

“Well, I changed my mind.” 

“You can’t just--” he starts, but she glares at him, pushing the small gift bag across the couch toward him.

“Just open it.” Something about the way she bites her lip makes him smile.

She’s nervous. 

“Yeah, okay.” He digs through the gold tissue paper, and it takes a moment before he feels something small and cool, metal, at the bottom of the bag.

A key.

“Move in with me. Officially,” she whispers.

She’s smiling into the kiss as his lips find hers.

——————————

“Dude, you can’t propose on Christmas,” Will groans, but he spots a vintage solitaire on a thin gold band and stops listening.

It’s perfect. 

“I’m _not,”_ he says. “I’m proposing _after_ Christmas.”

Except, by Christmas morning, Hailey’s already been eyeing him for weeks, picking up on his nerves. 

“We aren’t exchanging gifts this year,” she says suspiciously. He just rolls his eyes. 

“Says the woman who broke the rule last year.” 

He slips the box out of his bedside drawer.

“What if it’s not a gift? What if it’s just a question?”

She’s laughing as he slides the ring on.


	7. a little mystery to figure out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the seventh day of the @upsteadofficial Christmas prompt challenge -- MISTLETOE.
> 
> Title from Something To Talk About by Bonnie Raitt

“Hey, so, just so you’re aware, someone hung mistletoe _all_ over the district,” her voice greets him over the phone as he’s pulling into the parking lot. 

“Ooh, okay,” he says. “Why, you scared you’re gonna have to kiss me?” 

“Ha,” she fake laughs, and he smiles. “Just, you know. If we’re still not telling people at work, it might be best to try to avoid it.”

“You’re just worried you won’t be able to control yourself,” he says, and it’s her turn to laugh. 

Her voice lowers to a whisper, and he can picture the smile perfectly. “Mmm, _maybe,_ but better safe than sorry.” 

“Okay,” he says. “I’m headed in now. I’ll try to restrain myself.” 

Her back is to him as he walks up the stairs, but he’s pretty sure he can still see the eye roll as he pockets his phone and holds a cup of coffee out in front of her.

“Quick, while no one’s here, any mistletoe around?” He whispers, her lips quirking into a smile around the rim of the cup. 

“Thanks,” she says. 

“Thank Will,” he tells her, dropping his bag by his desk. “He bought this morning.” 

“Cool, let me just head over to Med and find some mistletoe there,” she says, and he groans. 

“That’s rude. But, seriously,” he says, glancing around quickly before leaning in to give her a quick kiss, black coffee somehow sweet on her lips. “Morning.” 

“Morning,” she whispers. “Even though I saw you an hour ago,” she says. 

He perches on the edge of her desk, his thigh an inch from her mouse, watching her sip the coffee. “Oh, I remember.” 

She smirks, setting down the coffee and pushing his thigh away as footsteps fall on the stairs. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, standing up. “I can be stealthy, no worries about the mistletoe.” 

——————————

Except, of course, for someone she’s literally watched dodge bullets, he’s so _unstealthy_ she’s pretty sure he’s actively _trying_ to find all the mistletoe. 

The first time, as she’s walking out of the breakroom and he’s walking in, Kim stops them.

“Oh, you guys. Look up.” 

Hailey glances up and rolls her eyes, but she’s cursing herself a little too. She knew it was there, she just hadn’t been paying attention. 

She shakes her head. “Guys. We’re at work, this isn’t really the place.”

Kim shakes her head. “Come on, it’s tradition. It’s just in good fun. Besides, Kev and Adam already took one for the team, can’t let them suffer alone.” 

Jay smirks, and behind them, she hears Kevin groan. 

“We said we were never talking about that again,” he says, and Adam laughs. 

“Aww, man, can’t stop thinking about it, can you? Your cheek is _very_ soft,” he says, reaching out his fingers to pinch Kevin’s cheek. Kevin stops him, holding up a hand. 

“I love you man, but I _will_ taze you.” 

Kim shushes them, turning back expectantly to Hailey and Jay in the breakroom doorway. “Let’s see it.” 

Hailey groans and Jay raises an eyebrow at her.

Maybe she’s overselling it. 

“Yes, this is _torture_ for you, I know,” he laughs, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple. ”There. We good?” 

She smiles, just a tiny flash of the curve of her lips. 

“Boring!” Adam yells, and Kim just rolls her eyes at them before turning back to her desk. 

Crisis averted. 

——————————

Except, of course. The crisis is _not_ averted.

Platt stops them for a mail call on their way back inside after a call, and maybe it’s because they’ve already kissed once, but his guard is down. 

“Hey, dummies,” Platt calls, right as they’re about to head upstairs. 

They turn back, and she points up, raising her eyebrows.

“Seriously?” He watches Hailey’s face twist in annoyance.

“Did you know that one was there?” She asks, her whisper pointed.

“No,” he mutters. “Come on, let’s get it over with.”

She raises an eyebrow at him, like _really?_ and he shrugs, trying not to grin. 

Footsteps on the stairs distract him for a moment, and he turns to find Kim, Adam, and Kevin traipsing down the stairs toward them. 

“Oh, did you all get caught again? _Bad luck,”_ Kevin says. 

Hailey rolls her eyes, and Jay takes the opportunity to lean in and press a kiss against her cheek, and it’s just like every kiss he’s pressed to her cheek in the kitchen, on his way out the door, or at night, in bed, before she rolls over. 

“Happy?” he asks, and he doesn’t let himself look at Hailey, because if she smiles, he’ll smile. When he risks a glance at Platt, she’s smirking, but he just chalks it up to Platt being Platt.

He’s pretty sure he hears Kim sigh, though, and he files that away to discuss with Hailey later.

——————————

Honestly, she and Jay should’ve just stayed home in bed today, she’s pretty sure.

The whole team is headed downstairs to the motor pool, she and Jay leading the way when Adam’s voice stops them. 

“Oh, I think the third kiss is required to be on the lips,” he says, pointing up.

“I'm pretty sure this is rigged,” she mutters. “Kim hasn't had to kiss anybody.”

_“Kim_ is observant,” Kim says, laughing. “I mean, if you want _me_ to kiss you, Hailey, we can do that. But the guys would all _die,_ do you really wanna have to train new partners?”

“No, yeah, we can handle that,” Jay says, grinning down at her. “You and Kim feel free to kiss, right guys?”

The other two idiots nod, and Kim and Hailey just roll their eyes. 

“Let's just get this show on the road,” she says, leaning up to press her lips to Jay’s. It's easy, natural, and she has to remind herself to pull back before she lets herself fall into it, into _him,_ like she so easily could. 

“Better?” She asks, and she tries not to let them see her flushed cheeks in the dim light of the stairwell. 

Jay shrugs, and she's gonna remember that later tonight. 

“Adequate,” Kim says, and it sounds like a critique. She sounds a little disappointed. 

“You all suck,” she mutters, heading out the door. 

——————————

He's pretty sure they've made it through the day without anyone finding out, and he risks following Hailey out to the parking lot to debrief before heading home. 

“A shrug, really?” She smirks, and yeah, he's gonna pay for that one. 

“Just keeping up appearances,” he grins, leaning into her. “Try again tonight and I’ll give you my honest review.”

She rolls her eyes, pushing him away right as Kim, Adam, and Kev exit the building toward them. 

“Molly’s?” Kim calls, and Hailey glances at him. He shrugs again, and she nods.

“Sure. See you there.”

Hailey’s headlights follow him out of the parking lot, and he tries to remind himself they’ll still be in public, around coworkers, for another couple of hours. 

——————————

Molly’s is quieter than usual, and by the time they’ve all gotten drinks and settled at a table, he’s feeling more relaxed with Hailey next to him. There doesn’t appear to be any mistletoe in sight, so it feels pretty status quo, keeping his hands to himself in public. 

Except, of course. 

Kim, Adam, and Kevin drain their beers like they’ve been parched for thirst, and he eyes them all critically. It’s his night to buy the second round, and they seem determined to make him ante up. 

“Hailey, go help him,” Kevin says, and he watches Hailey shoot him an _excuse me?_ look. Off her look, Kevin laughs. “Dude, Kim ordered the biggest drink the bar sells, he’s gonna need an extra hand, and you’re closest.”

It’s true, and he gestures over his shoulder to the bar. 

In retrospect, they both let their guard down way too easily. 

“Are they being a little weird?” Hailey asks as they wait for their drinks a couple of minutes later. He nods, glancing over his shoulder. For a table full of cops, none of them is being very stealthy, and he’s felt three pairs of eyes on his back for the last couple of minutes. 

“Hey, is it a little weird that there was mistletoe literally _all_ over the district today and besides Kev and Adam, you and I are the _only ones_ who kissed?” He asks, playing the day over in his mind. He’d watched patrolmen walk right under the mistletoe in front of Platt, and _he’d_ been the one to call out Adam and Kevin this morning. 

She raises an eyebrow, and he can see the wheels turning in her head.

“Jesus, you’re right,” she whispers. “Do you think they _know?_ Are they testing us?”

He shrugs, watching Kim’s eyes track their every movement. “What if they do know?”

She glances away, and he watches a small smile quirk the corner of her lips. “I mean, we’re gonna tell them eventually, right?” 

He nods and lets his fingers brush hers on the edge of the bar. “Eventually could be today, if you were ready.”

She bites her lip, and he prepares for her to say no. They haven’t fought about it, but there have been discussions. It’s been _months_ since she came home from New York and they let themselves slowly fall into this _,_ and he knows initially they were both nervous about anyone else finding out. Workplace relationships have been notoriously faulty for both of them, and honestly? Keeping it a secret, having to keep his hands to himself for hours on end, has been both harder and hotter than he’d anticipated, and he knows, from the way her lips find his the second they’re alone at the end of a long day, that she agrees. 

But being able to hug her on a hard day, or reach over and kiss her in the locker room just because, or in the stairwell or doorway or lobby without mistletoe? He knows that would be better than any secret, if she’s ready.

Her nails trace over the back of his hand, and she smiles slowly. She’s about to say something when Hermann comes over with their drinks, a suspicious-looking twinkle in his eye. 

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” he says, before setting their drinks down and holding up a sprig of mistletoe above their heads. 

Jay grins, shaking his head, and lets himself lean over the bar like he’s gonna kiss Hermann.

“I will end you, son,” he says, and Jay holds up his hands, leaning back. 

“Unless Hailey over here secretly wants to kiss me, I’m assuming this isn’t for me,” he says. 

He watches Hailey smile, glancing at Hermann. “Sorry,” she whispers. “Not gonna happen.” 

Hailey glances back to look at him. “Hey, Hermann,” she says, and something about the way she’s grinning makes Jay’s stomach twist. “Thanks, but we don’t need the mistletoe.” 

Hermann shrugs, dropping the mistletoe on the bar and walking away, and Jay grins down at her as she lifts up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to his. He pulls her in, his arm around her waist, and lets himself kiss her like they’re not in public, like he can’t hear chairs scraping over at their table, like he’s been wanting to ever since he forced himself out of her warm embrace in bed this morning. 

Her mouth opens under his and he feels her smile into the kiss as her nails trail up the back of his neck. She arches into him, and she feels as good against him as she always does, but maybe better, because it’s not hidden anymore. 

She pulls back slowly, and he chases her down for one more quick kiss, and it’s only then that he realizes Kim, Adam, and Kevin are beside them. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Adam says, holding up his hands. “You guys have _clearly_ done that before.”

“Yeah, dude,” Jay says, his hands still holding Hailey close. “You were _there_ for three of them today.”

“No, no,” Kim says, a faster pace and higher pitch than Jay’s ever heard from her. “We saw three boring, annoyed kisses. This was none of those things.”

Hailey shrugs, her shoulder against his chest. “Guess we just learn fast.” He’s happy she picked up on his silent desire to mess with them all a little. It only seems fair.

Kevin shakes his head. “Nope. Not buying it.”

He glances at Hailey. It’s her call. 

“What was the goal here, guys? We’ve figured out we were the only ones unknowingly participating in this mistletoe extravaganza today, minus Kevin and Adam.”

“That was a _mistake,”_ Kevin says, and beside him, Adam grins.

_“Was it_ though?” Adam asks, shit-stirring grin firmly in place. 

Kim just rolls her eyes, turning the attention back to him and Hailey. “We thought we’d just… nudge you all in the right direction, make you realize you wanted to kiss each other. The tension has been _unbearable_ these last few months. Blame Platt, she was the mastermind.”

He glances at Hailey and nods. “Well, shocker.” 

Hailey’s fingers drag down his back and he watches Kim put two and two together. 

“We were trying to nudge you together and you’re _already together,”_ she says, shoving Adam’s shoulder roughly.

“What the hell, Kim?” He mutters, but Jay watches him exchange glances with Kevin. 

“Dude,” Kevin says, smiling, and Adam grins.

Kim recovers and sighs. “Oh, _thank god._ We thought you guys were just bad at this. You were just playing us right back, you didn’t want us to know. I was worried I’d called it wrong.”

He smiles, pressing his lips to the top of Hailey’s head as she leans further against him. 

“The tension _was_ _unbearable,_ because we’ve been keeping our hands to ourselves for months at work,” he says. “Honestly, I can kinda see why none of you have made detective yet. We _barely_ tried to hide it.”

“They tried to do something nice,” Hailey says, pressing her lips to his chin. “Stupid, but nice.”

He nods, his hand finding her back pocket and pulling her closer. 

Kim glances between them. “No, you know what? You two are way more grossly affectionate than I counted on. Kinda at my limit already.”

He laughs and feels Hailey’s shoulders shake against him. “I feel like you asked for this though.”

Kim shakes her head. “Nope.” Kevin and Adam trail her back to the table, and Hailey pulls back just slightly to look up at him. 

“I think that went as well as could be expected,” she says. 

He nods. “Agreed. Can we get outta here, though? It’s cool we can be _us_ around them now, but right now, I just wanna be _us_ alone.” 

“Mhmm,” she whispers, leaning in to kiss him once more. “But if you ever _shrug_ after I kiss you again, I’ll end you.”

He laughs, tugging lightly at her ponytail. “Somehow, I’m more scared of that threat from you than from Hermann.”

“Yeah, and don’t forget it.”

He grins, reaching over to grab the mistletoe Hermann left on the bar. She rolls her eyes, but he just shrugs, following her toward the door. “Just in case.”

“Better safe than sorry,” she says, tossing a wave toward their table and leading him out of the bar. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments help spread holiday cheer!


End file.
